


Ghost in the Fog

by erikssiren



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Basically I can't draw so I wrote this instead, Gen, The shipping is very minor, although it's kind of also the main reason for the fic, i honestly don't know what this is, this is also probably the shortest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 07:50:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikssiren/pseuds/erikssiren
Summary: On the ramparts a figure stood, solitary when once a slightly taller but equally elven and powerful figure would have stood beside it. (Set between the end of DA:I and Tresspasser)





	Ghost in the Fog

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a very long time since I've written anything! And this is pretty different to what I used to write - and by different I mean it's probably the shortest thing I've ever written. It's been very foggy lately where I live, so that's what started it all, that plus the insane amount of Dragon Age I've been playing lately. This has not been beta'd and was pretty much churned out in about 30 minutes, so if there are any mistakes I apologize!
> 
> Basically I had this very specific image in my head and if I had the ability to draw, I would have done that but instead, I tried to write it out.

A fog had rolled over the fortress late in the afternoon, a rare occurrence this high into the mountains, and as dusk fell it was clear that the few inhabitants of Skyhold would have to endure it. The setting sun turned the white mist into a dark blue creature, its shadows barely highlighted by firelight.

As the air thickened with mist, an unnatural hush fell across the stones; once familiar areas turned oppressive and foreign; firelight haloed around torches and the wall of fog caused shadows to stand next to their makers.

On the ramparts a figure stood, solitary when once a slightly taller but equally elven and powerful figure would have stood beside it.  
The lone shadow didn’t move, not at the sharp burst of laughter from below, not when a green glow began to grow, blooming in the thick air. Not even when a crackling, sizzling sound, muted and sluggish in the fog, permeated the air alongside the sickly smell of burnt flesh.

The sound caught the attention of the watchmen below but when the looked up, the figure had gone, leaving nothing in its wake.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
